Those Solitary Trails Of Red
by sky tulips
Summary: blood is everywhere. it's infringed upon our very skin. it's infringed upon our very being. kurofai. ღ . . .a oneshot.


**A/N : **Every writer gets the need to write a good old piece of angst. I'm experimenting with first person narrative so please let me have your feedback on that. I'd love some constructive criticism for this piece. That being said, I hope you enjoy it. It took me way longer than it should have. Nearly five thousand words. Whoa. And I'm working with Fai's point of view simply because I'm too much of a coward to use Kurogane's. Feeding scene! Yes. I had a lot of fun writing that. **  
**

**Warnings ****- Spoilers** for the tokyo arc. (acid!tokyo) And angst-ridden kurofai.

* * *

**  
**

**Those. Solitary. Trails. Of. Red**

--

--

_Don't__ take the m_**ed**_icine._

_Leave __the drugs __upon_** the **_c__**o**__u_n_ter._

_**W**__ho _ne_eds p__**last**__ers?_

_To _**h**ell_ with these __**bandages!**_

_If _I don't _heal __**on**__ my o_w_n._

_I __won't__**heal at **__all._

--'_Folklore_'.

--

--

"_If you don't kill them..._

_If you don't do what you were designed to do..._

_What you are supposed to do..._

_What you were chosen for and will do..._

_Then I will k-..._"

Designed?

I think that was the word that snapped me out of my nightmares. Nightmares that were somehow always the same; the low voices and the beckoning hands and the abrupt scenery changes. Vast empty spaces to familiar clearings. There were shadowed figures too. Maybe they all represented the same person, but that didn't change the fact that the words these figures spoke left me numb and shivering by the stained bathroom sink every night. They were saying words I didn't understand or didn't want to hear.

Designed.

I contemplated this while watching tonight's vomit trudge sluggishly down the blotched plughole. It made me sound like a blueprint.

I tried turning the rusted tap handle but the water didn't flow. I laughed cruelly. Kurogane wouldn't like that I'd vomited again; and when he saw the sink he'd probably want to talk about it. Ask me why I wasn't sleeping. Ask me why I was so disgusting. I raised a hand to my mouth where the acidic taste had become practically etched.

A blueprint.

If I hadn't done what I was supposed to do, then I suppose that made me just another failure. I was definitely a blueprint. A blueprint for disaster.

--

--

I heard the door and instantly knew who it was.

"Hey,"

There was a forced gentleness in his voice.

"I'm in here," I said weakly, smiling from behind the bathroom door.

"I thought you were asleep," he muttered.

He sounded utterly defeated. Of course he would. He'd spent hours and hours each day trying to get me to fall asleep. He watched over me even when I simply lay, rocking almost lifelessly until I was lulled into sleep and even when I woke up moments later from the nightmares, he'd still be there. His calm, protective eyes half worried and half defeated; and he was sounding more defeated every day.

"I'm sorry,"

I spoke up without thinking. Stupid. So stupid. I promised myself I'd try not to talk to him. I'd try not to look at him.

"Come here," he called gruffly, and giving in, I gingerly nudged open the bathroom door.

"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting down on the bed where I'd just been sleeping.

I tilted my head, trying to look nonchalant. Trying to look completely uninterested with anything he had to say.

"What's the matter?" he repeated with more force.

My lip twitched delicately but I remained steadily next to the door frame; even though I could tell he was getting more and more irritated with me by the second.

He sighed and leant back, his gaze now focused on the ceiling, but I knew he hadn't given up yet.

To tell the truth, half of me wanted to just run to his side and let him hold me. I wanted him to cradle me protectively and listen to me as I poured out thoughts that I'd only been screaming to myself for days.

Days? Or months? I didn't even remember how long I'd been straying away for the rest of the group. Curling up in dark and dirty rooms and refusing to speak to him. I'd only truly let him touch me when I was feeding.

I could tell what he was thinking. Sometimes it was like he was the vampire. He was trying to bleed the emotion out of me. Trying to get me to respond or to force me however he could to tell him what I was thinking. I was making it so hard for him. Why was I making things so hard for him? He would have better luck trying to get Souhi to cry tears from it's steel.

I wavered in the doorway. I longed for his touch so much.

"I-" I uttered, letting go of all the disgusting 'willpower' I had, "I was sick. I'm sorry. I smell like d-"

"You were sick again? You aren't feeding enough." He stated, cutting me off when I'd finally given in and spoken to him. I thought he might've appreciated it more.

I watched as his tore a fresh wound in his wrist and eyed the flowing blood with as much longing as I wanted to cling to him and cry; if I went over there, that might end up happening.

"Drink it."

He was standing in front of me now and I could still see the worry in his eyes. I hesitated but then I felt his free hand intertwine with mine and I was on my knees and my lips were drawn open once again.

--

--

The fluid was warm; paralyzing me and sickening me once again. I could feel it flowing smoothly through his wrist and then travelling beautifully through my own throat; then ripping through my veins, making my every sense come completely alive and addicting every single cell in my body. It tasted raw and disgusting against my tongue yet it tasted so wonderful and prolonging at the back of my mouth. There was a sharp grit of salt and such an overflowing sweetness that it made my head pound like I'd drunk poison. It was crushing me; my skin was overflowing with his blood. The raw and new spilt blood. Vivid red gashes blinded behind my closed eyelid. It was swimming. Horribly and delectably swimming in every corner of my mouth and inside my gut. It was everywhere. Blood was gushing down the walls and on the pavement outside. Blood was infringed upon every flake of my skin. It filled the room. It filled the air. Blood was everywhere. Every corner of this place, every inch of it is tainted by the coppery scent and everyone was drowning in the thick vitality that poured down the corridors as easily as it had poured down my veins.

The world is his blood.

Oh God.

I'm going to be sick. I'm going to be painfully, terribly sick. I want _more_. I want so much-

"Have you had enough?"

He didn't even sound dizzy and I'd been positive I'd took more than my fill.

"Enough." I said sloppily, messily wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

Before I even realized what he was doing, I could feel his finger teasingly in my hair. Just spinning it as if it were thread and then letting go. I drew in a breath when his fingertip gently brushed my scalp; his touch was so cool on my hot and flustered skin that I-

I stood up hurriedly and walked away. I was so cowardly that I couldn't even say thank you. I heard him sigh as I pretended to focus my attention on the window.

There was a line of dead trees along the ground. Everything in this place looked dead. The cobblestones were worn and dull. There was soot and smoke immersed in every inch of the air and every night there were gunshots and screaming. This place was so unhappy and grey that I couldn't stand it. Then, perched upon one of the old, withered branches was a single white bird; it's feathers outstretched and ready to fly.

I'm so stupid. It could only be someone as pitiful as me to forget everything that's important and shut himself off completely.

I turned and Kurogane eyed me with a cold sympathy. He tied the ropy bandage loosely around his freshly cut wrist and grimaced.

"Does it hurt?"

I blurted out the question without knowing I'd done so. It was a question I'd always wanted to ask him but had been afraid at his answer or reaction; but now, now that there was such a sense of distance between us, I could ask him anything I wanted. It didn't matter. My voice was as empty and emotionless as possible.

"Only a little," his answer was breif, but not at all angry. He finished his work by tying a sturdy knot.

"It's funny," It turns out I wasn't done with talking, "I shouldn't feel guilty...but I do."

This wasn't good. Once I started talking to him, I know I wouldn't stop. I'd carry on until I couldn't bare the distance and would want the gap to somehow close so we'd be completely together.

"I can't do anything about that," typical Kurogane, "It's your free will to feel guilty I suppose. Even though I chose this for you. There's nothing I can do, you'll have to figure out those emotions by yourself."

I felt a bitter urge to laugh at that statement but held it back. 'By myself'. Yeah, I guess that's how it would have to be. It's not like he's even trying to reach me anymore. I felt the bitter sting of tears and a lump of regret curl heavily in my throat.

"Every inch of you grows closer to me, you know that? Every drop I drink makes me feel so close to you yet every drop makes me hate you so much! You're forcing me to live and with that you're forcing every last bit of me to _hate _you entirely!"

My cheeks were wet and burning. I was crying like a child now; just letting everything pour out. Maybe it's better if I do things this way. By the look of the anger etched into his features maybe it's not. Maybe I should learn to keep my mouth shut. Or at least stop crying like this. I know that he won't-

"_I'm _forcing you to hate me?" his shouts were shaking with pent-up anger and frustration. That was my fault too. "You're forcing yourself to do that! Because you're running away. What a surprise! You're running away _again_. When you tell yourself, when you make yourself believe that you hate me. Even though you tell yourself it's for both our own goods, all you're doing is lying to yourself! Don't you get it? Now you're trying to escape from _you_!"

And his words hurt me more than he probably knew. Or maybe he did know. Recently it seemed like he could read me like a book. He drew in an angry breath and I did the same.

"You aren't even protecting me either, I know what you're doing. You're just protecting yours-"

"Shut up!"

He had to be quiet. How as he doing this? Eventually he would see all of me; he'd see all of my pitiful, ugly self and then what would happen?

"I'm going to give up on you, you know!" his voice was so loud that my head was swimming in pain, "I hate this. You never gave me anything. All I do is try to get something, _anything_ out of you. To understand and to listen, but you never tell me. You're never going to tell me. I feel like I'm the one god damn devouring _you_; when all I'm doing is hurting myself. Tiring myself out. I've had it. I-"

'_Don't give up on me-_'

It wouldn't come out of my mouth. Not even in whisper; and for god's sake I could feel those tears stinging again. I laughed dryly, darkly, I couldn't give him anything. He was right.

"Give up on me then."

I lay down on the bed, trying to ignore his twitching fists but I knew what was coming.

"That's _it_."

His fingers were tight around the faded fabric of my collar and his eyes gleamed with a violent and all the while loving intent; I winced but somehow knew he wouldn't do it. The bandage round his wrist began to peel and unravel and the still weeping cut began to bleed once more.

"Damn it." he let go of me, letting me slump back down to the mattress and crumple.

"I'm not even worth the strength to hit me, right?" my voice was quieter than I imagined, "I'm losing worth all the time, Kurogane, and eventually I'll be even more pathetic and disgusting than I am now. Someday I'll be something so worthless that you won't even bother to even _think_ to save me when I'm close to death,"

I thought that would make him angry again, I thought he would hit me for sure, in some stupid way, I wanted him to hit me. I wanted our skin to contact just so I would know that it simply could, but instead, he was looking at me with such sad eyes. He could hit me all he wanted, just as long as he didn't look at me with those eyes.

"Don't dare say you're worthless," he said to me, "Don't you _dare_. If you're worthless, than I'm worthless too. I guess we're both just- but that's not true. We both have a purpose, you idiot, and I-" he looked down, breaking off his sentence and I'm sure I saw him smile slightly.

I'm sickening. I don't deserve this. He doesn't deserve this. Why should such a human being like myself be allowed to be loved?

I reach out.

I finally reach out.

A tear.

"Oh-" I begin.

"Get the hell away from me," he pushes me away "I would never waste sadness on you."

I know he really means he's returning the favour of not letting me become part of his emotions. I sink down into the pillows. Sometimes medicine tastes like cyanide.

--

--

'_Every drop I take makes me hate you so much_!'

But I love him. I do love him. More than I should. More than I could. I love him more than is necessary, more than is safe or is allowed. I love him more than I deserve to. I don't deserve to love him and he definitely shouldn't love me. I don't deserve that more than anything. Yet, he's everything I want and everything I ever and never thought I would need. Absolutely _everything_. If only it were as simple as 'to me you are perfect' but it isn't. It's so much more than that. It's like words can't describe it and like hearts can't speak of it. I love him so much. That grimy bandage that was messily wrapped around his arm. His blatant and blind care he has for everybody. His purpose. His logic. His ability to understand. His ability to understand _me_. But above all of that is that look in his eyes. Love is burned so far into that look and I hate myself every day that it's directed at me. That one single look that's almost secretly _reserved_ for me. How can he offer me that? I _know _that it shouldn't be permitted or granted. I know that.

But even so, I want to take that look and return it as much as my pitiful heart allows.

"Kurogane-"

I can't take anything else from him. I can't hate him. I could _never _hate him. I can't love him either; I can and I can't all in the same way. I can't take anything from him. We'll suffocate. _We'll suffocate_.

"We'll-"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I reached out again and it's the second time I've done that tonight. He pulled me close and I knew he was thinking it too.

'_This is the way things should be_.'

It breaks my heart that they can't.

And I can't ask for anything more.

This is enough.

**It's over.**

--

--

_Sleep._

_Finally._

**Those.Solitary.Trails.Of.Gold.**

**--**

**--**

Blood.

Blood.

There was **blood** everywhere.

'_I.Will.Kill.Them._'

I threw up again. That dream was more realistic than the rest. Again I twisted the tap and dusted the sink with rags; I was surprised he didn't wake up when he felt me recoil. Was it something like... premonition? That was ridiculous. But there was something about these dreams that left me empty and set off my gag reflex; there had to be something in them. I glanced at the clock; it was nearly morning and it had rained all night again. I sighed. What were we even _doing _here? I hadn't even bothered to become a part of it. I hadn't bothered to face Syaoran or Sakura in days.

Blood...everywhere.

I glanced over at Kurogane and I couldn't help feel there was something very wrong, I couldn't shake the ominous feeling from my shoulders.

--

--

"We need to get to that warehouse,"

"It's dangerous, possibly too dangerous. Only if you're sure."

"But it's the only way,"

"Then I guess we'll go. But let me warn you, kid, the people of this town won't play fair,"

"You're right, but if I don't go, who will? We can't expect..."

"Listen, if you feel like you ought to do something, you should do it. Otherwise, you're just denying yourself of what you want,"

"I do think that I should..."

"Then maybe you've found part of a purpose,"

"You don't have to come. I couldn't put you in danger,"

"Don't be stupid. I guess someone needs to be alongside you,"

"But what if-?"

"Nothing is going to go wrong, look, sometimes you have to, well, you know,"

"...Thank you,"

"Shut up!"

"What weapon should I-"

I stumbled out into the hallway. The light from the large windows blinding my dazed eye; and the tow figures in front of me staring at me with a mixture of confusion and blatant surprise I'd left the room. I coughed noisily, each cough almost sounding like a disgusting retch. I knew I was a mess. My hair was tangled and only half pulled back into a band so that the rest of the long strands fell to my shoulders, looking almost matted and woven. The fabric round my eye was tilting, showing a glimpse of my ugly, tender eyelid from underneath and my skin was pallid and course.

"Where," I tried to stand up straight, "Where are you going?"

The Syaoran I hadn't even come to know properly stared at me with familiar amber-brown eyes and made me feel slightly weak. Kurogane patted him on the shoulder and started moving towards me.

"The kid has had a lead on the princess's next feather," he explained, pulling the tie of my eye patch tighter.

Feathers...for god's sake, what's wrong with me? Why am I losing sight of everything that's important?

"But-"

I couldn't shake the feeling.

Kurogane raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm coming," I said in finality.

"You hear the guns every night," Kurogane hissed, "You're not really in a fit state for a fight,"

I hesitated, "Listen, I just really need to come along on this one. I promise I'll be okay. I don't die too easily, remember?"

I could feel him looking at me with that stare that felt like he was analyzing me, he could tell there was something behind my motives.

"It's your choice," he said eventually, "Just don't expect me to come running when you need someone to save your ass,"

Typical Kurogane.

That's what he says, but I know that if someone had a gun raised to my head, the hand holding it wouldn't be pointing there for too long.

For the first time in a while, I forced a smile.

"I'll be okay. I promise."

--

--

--

_It was hard to tell who died that moment..._

--

Even though there was fumes and soot and who knows what else in it, the air outside tasted like fresh food after you'd come out of a storm. There was a vague fog of vitality in it. The sharp oxygen cleared my head and the city air whipped my scarf in and out of the loop. Kurogane walked in front and then 'Syaoran' walked behind him. I hurried after, trying to regain my casual aloofness in my way of walking, but all I could manage was simply trailing after them.

Maybe I shouldn't have come after all. I much prefer the sink to the gutter.

They were talking between themselves but I wasn't even trying to hear. I'd gone numb. Every little piece of me felt drowsy and sickly. I closed my eye firmly and looked again; but it was almost like my sight was constantly plagued by a darkening border, and my head was already going fuzzy again, despite the cold rushes of blood that kept knocking me in and out of sense.

I grabbed hold of the wall and the chipped and crumbled bricks scratched my palms, and then my heart skipped a beat.

Down the cracks of the wall, in between the eclectic range of concrete slabs, there was a single line of blood flowing slowly down to the ground.

"Hey!"

I brought a hand to my eye and rubbed tenderly. The red was gone but it was still imprinted on my mind. This was bad. This was so very bad.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure!" I lied, but I didn't bother to try and smile, "I thought I'd found a coin, but it was just a bottle top,"

Lies.

He saw through them immediately.

--

The warehouse was dimly lit in the centre by a single flickering lightbulb and the corners and sides were completely shrouded in darkness. I could tell there were people there. I could sense them moving around in the shadows and it seemed like 'Syaoran' and Kurogane could too.

"We've come to-" 'Syaoran' began but Kurogane cupped a hand over his mouth sharply.

I turned in so we were each facing outside like three sides of a strange triangle. There was whispers and shuffles all around.

"Well, boys," came a oddly nasal voice from the right, "Seems like some strays have wandered into our little kennel,"

There was an uproar of laughs and I felt Kurogane twitch with anger.

"Could it be these losers have come to steal our power source? How would we regain control of our territory if a bunch of strays like these took it?" he was circling us in the dark.

"I say we show these idiots what happens when you mess with us," his voice was murderous; and the cold droning of possibly hundreds of footsteps began to encircle the warehouse.

I shook gently. There was no way I was up for a fight like this.

The voice and the starting pistol echoed at the same time.

The bullet hit the lightbulb and it shattered on impact; suspending the room into total darkness.

"Go!" was the battle cry.

--

I did what I did best and that was dodge. I ran, I jumped and I ducked. Then I would stumble to throw up or cough violently. Kurogane and 'Syaoran' were putting up a fight. I could hear the steel clangs yet I couldn't see what was going on.

There were people jumping at me from all sides, using anything they could to get at me. I felt a steel pole collide fiercely with my leg and gasped in pain. This wasn't good. There were too many of them.

I tried desperately to cast my dizziness and worry aside just for at least five minutes until they were all taken down by Kurogane, but I couldn't. I dodged again only this time I was met with a fist to the cheek. I crumpled to the floor and was instantly screaming. What was wrong with me? Fight back!

I stood up and jumped at full length, immediately hearing puzzled mumbles and cursing. I heard a pained groan from Kurogane and instantly hit the ground; where was he? Was he okay?

The gunshots began. Much louder than the ones muffled my night time. These gunhots were powerful and murderous. I clutched my aching head, desperately trying to erase the visions of blood; when suddenly there was another collision. There was suddenly a set of nails clawing frantically at my throat. I kicked out, trying to sense my attacker, only, I somehow couldn't, and now there were several pairs of hands on me, inflicting whatever damage they could.

"Were just going to hurt you real good," I heard a hiss, "You're not the one who's going to die tonight."

I smiled coldly and struck out forwards, my attacker hurtling to the floor.

"Nobody's going to die tonight," I said calmly, dealing out strikes at every angle I could reach.

"That's where you're wrong. You see, our orders came from someone. Someone who said you'd probably be fam-" I shut him up as best I could.

"You realise we're going to win." there was another one, "The one who gave us this feather and these orders also gave us weapons and fighters. You are going to _lo_-"

I jumped out of the way of his swinging knife, ignorin his words in every way I possibly could. Which was no way. What the hell was he talking about? Orders?

Blueprints...

I held my breath in a panic.

"_If you don't kill them..._

_Then I will k-..._"

"NO!"

And it was hard to tell who died that moment.

It was so hard to tell.

--

--

I didn't know. I didn't know.

Who had just been killed? I felt like there were gashes deep in my chest and in my throat.

I felt like I was slowly coughing up life. Slowly falling into death.

It was so hard to tell who died that very moment.

The blade was definitely through Kurogane's heart.

But with every single god damn _inch _of my body; I swear, I swear I could feel it through mine.

And the cold steel was stinging; and the people backed away, and 'Syaoran' was shouting, and lights were brightly shining and I couldn't even breathe because it stung like hell. There were only the two of us.

And it was so easy to tell who had died. So easy when I could see it for myself.

He reached out with familiar hands and the blade retracted from him. I stumbled forward, feeling like I was slowly suffocating and felt his grip once again on my collar, and then he was falling and I was pulled down with him.

His hand was firmly on the back of my head and his finger was pointing to my one crying eye.

"Pain," he noted with almost a smirk, "I see it right there,"

Then I felt my head hit his chest heavily. His heartbeat was pounding, _drumming_ almost like his blood pumping from his veins to my throat.

It stopped.

And I screamed.

I _screamed_.

As loud as humanly possible. It was the only thing I knew how to do and once again I felt like a crying child who'd lost all control. His eyes were already closed and his lips were parted slightly, almost like he was going to start talking again and I waited. Breathing frantically, everything around me a blur; I waited for him to finish what he was saying. He never did. He never did and I was crying again. Uncontrollable sobs because there were no words I could possibly say.

"I love you," it came out hysterically and broken. Not at all like I'd wanted it too.

And it was unheard by everyone but me.

Because he was already gone.

--

--

**Those.Solitary.Trails.To.Nowhere.**

_Do you believe in fate?_

i believe in hitsuzen.

but

can you _cry_ from one empty eye?

--

I wasn't running. I swear that now that I wasn't running.

Wind could whip right through my veins and through the sky and the world could turn and turn all it wanted to.

I'd be in the same place. I swear it.

I wasn't running. My body was lurching. Holding onto the surface of stone or of water. My senses had completely died and it didn't even matter.

I held on tight.

I tried to smile.

And a timeless shudder passed through my bones.

--

--

--

--

_Fin._


End file.
